


Aftermath and Death

by RandomRyu



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Family Drama, Inspector Javert - Freeform, Jean Valjean - Freeform, Major character death - Freeform, References to Suicide, Suicide, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomRyu/pseuds/RandomRyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. After Javert's commits suicide, Valjean is getting worse and worse as time goes on. He refuses to eat and sleep, though he continues to cook for Cosette and do anything in his power to keep her healthy and such. Cosette is worried sick for her father, watching him slowly die before her very eyes. On the night of her wedding, Valjean says his last goodbyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath and Death

Cosette barely sees her papa leave the house anymore. He doesn’t eat, he rarely sleeps, and he barely speaks. He just stays in his room or sits around the house, staring down at his hands and examining them like they’re the most interesting thing in the world at the moment. He has such a ruddy, run down appearance and is getting thinner and thinner from refusal of eating. Cosette has set out meals for him, which she would see him pick at for a while and take a few bites before he pushed it away and went to his room. She genuinely worried about her papa, he could see him breaking down and dying right before her very eyes. Before, he was younger looking than his age labeled him as. But now, gray is streaking his hair and showing up in the hairs of his stubble and beard; the creases around his mouth and eyes becoming more prominent. His hair has grown out some that it hangs over his eyes and curls over his ears. He looks his age now. 

They went to therapy a few times, and he had opened up there. He spoke about his guilt and how he thought he was a terrible husband, that everything that happened was his fault. He was convinced of this fact. Cosette had to leave the room a few times, wondering what Valjean was speaking about while she wasn’t in his presence. He has mentioned his and Javert’s past a few times while she was present, but said nothing specific and gave her no clues. Now, she was curious. But she wouldn’t press this information out of him, she didn’t want to stress him out and upset him even more than he was. So she stayed in the side of unknowing, no matter how much she wanted to know. 

Cosette sometimes walked in on Valjean praying. He muttered under his breath, and she could see the tears welling up in his eyes. That’s the only time she had heard him speak, and she couldn’t even hear what he was saying. When she asked how his day was, he shrugged. When she asked what he wanted for dinner, he shrugged. When she asked what was the matter, he gave her a certain sullen look that read “You know exactly why I’m upset.” He was sometimes angry, but it was always at himself. He always scolded himself for being such a terrible husband, sometimes even asking Cosette if he was a terrible father. A terrible husband. A terrible person. She always sat him down and told him that he wasn’t a bad person, that nothing was his fault. But he always denied that fact, still going on believing that everything that happened up to this point was always because of him, even if he had no idea why. 

The more the weeks went on, the more his true age showed. The more his hair grayed and his beard grew; his once muscular frame slowly turning into a lithe, thin one. She had to get him help, but he always refused. He was coming to the end of his days, and she could see that. He was going to die soon, whether it be from his own consent or of natural causes. But he would never off himself and take after his husband, he needed to take care of Cosette. Valjean did his best to keep Cosette up and running. He cooked dinner, he bought her gifts, he did everything in his power to make her happy and worry less about him. But that only made her worry grow and overtake her. She didn’t want to lose him. She wished that he would say alive forever, but of course, every human life comes to an end, and she had trouble accepting that fact. And she could see death written all over her Papa’s face and being; his aura sullen and depressing. She wished she could snap her fingers and make everything better. She wished her father, Javert, was still alive. She wished Valjean was happy with him again. 

She wished she was a child just being introduced to the two men for the first time again, starting her new life. 

But that would take a miracle to happen, it was absolutely impossible. Cosette hated feeling like this at such a time, for her wedding in a week. She was getting married to Marius Pontmercy. Marius worried for her, but she always assured him otherwise. “I’m fine, Marius, don’t worry about me. I love you, okay?” She always said that with such a shake in her voice, and Marius had to comfort her. He held her close and told her everything was going to be okay, that they were going to be wed soon and that they would be together for as long as they lived. She was safe in his arms. 

It was her wedding day when she saw a real smile upon Valjean’s features. Even with his run down, broken look that one real smile lit up his features. He looked proud for her, though there was a hint of sadness in that smile. He had practically raised her, watched her grow from a small girl to a woman. Time seems to go slow, but looking back on everything, Cosette had to say everything went by so fast. She remembers hiding behind the social worker’s legs, the gentle, welcoming smiles from her new fathers and Valjean ruffling her ratty blonde hair. She remembers the doll they gave her that she had named Catherine, which had such beautiful blonde hair and a silk maroon dress, white stocking and polished black shoes. She remembers when she first started going out with Marius, how Javert was so against it and thought of the brunette suspicious, and Valjean encouraged their relationship. Those countless times that Valjean and Javert told her that they love her, care for her, and would do anything to make her happy. How they brought her back to a normal life a girl should have other than being starved and beaten by abusive foster parents. They taught her to live again. 

It was after the ceremony that Cosette went to look for her father and couldn’t find him. Everyone was in a spacious ball room filled with elegant decorations and bright lights that fit the environment perfectly. It was absolutely stunning, and everyone had complimented the space in their conversations that Cosette and Marius had overheard. Cosette went up to Marius after ten minutes of searching the spacious room for Valjean, panic beginning to bubble up in her chest and make her head pound. 

“Marius, Marius,” Cosette tugged on her husband’s sleeve, a shake in her voice. He was partaking in a conversation with a few of his friends when he was interrupted by her, though he turned his attention right to her when she had called him, noticing the rushed tone of her voice. 

“What is it, Cosette? Is something wrong?” Marius took her small, delicate hand in his and squeezed it gently, lovingly; as if to calm her down. 

“Papa, I can’t find him anywhere, we have to find him,” She whispered, though she knew that the others could hear her over their conversations. Marius dismissed himself from the group he was speaking to, and Cosette and Marius began their search for Valjean, disregarding the fact that they were leaving their own wedding party. For now, they had to find Cosette’s father. She knew he was getting old, and she even saw him in a wheelchair today which he had refused to use until yesterday. He complained and said that he didn’t need it- until he fell, of course. Cosette begged him to use it, and on the day of the wedding, he rolled in with the chair, looking weak and frail. 

They looked in the adjacent empty rooms, Marius searched in the Men’s room, and then they found themselves in the church where the ceremony was held. They were about to give up and go back to their party, until they spotted a man in a wheelchair near the front of the church, near the rows of rows of candles. The two newlyweds instantly ran up to the man, realizing that it was Valjean and they had found him. 

“Papa, Papa!” Cosette ran up to her father with a concerned look on her face, observing him. He was so very pale, the bags that had gotten worse over time under his eyes prominent, the light in his eyes dull and his lips curved down into a sullen frown. “Why are you here, why did you leave? We were looking all over for you, Papa!” Tears welled up in her eyes at this sight. He looked so out of it, like his head was up in the clouds and he was daydreaming. 

“Cosette, my child,” Valjean nearly whispered her name, feeling whatever was left of his strength draining from his once healthy body as the moments passed. “Oh god, I thought you’d never find me.”

“We’re here now, Papa, we’re here,” Cosette knew something was wrong, he would just leave like this in the middle of such an event. She could see the color draining from his cheeks and his eyes closing; his breathing was short and quick and it seemed like he was struggling to sit up straight. 

“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer, Cosette,” As he admitted this, Cosette could see tears welling up in his eyes; her own falling down her cheeks now. Marius was knelt down next to Cosette, and he couldn’t help himself from watching with wide eyes as her father died slowly right before their eyes. He saw his wife’s hand reach up to grasp Valjean’s tightly, her pale hands standing out on Valjean’s tan ones. Marius put his arm around Cosette, holding her close as this all was happening. “T—Take this,” He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Cosette. “It’s about a man who adopted you, brought you into his keeping. The hardships he went through, his relationship with your father, how he came to be. How he learned to love again.” Cosette choked back a sob as she took the envelope from Valjean with trembling hands, clutching it in her free hand as the other held her father’s hand tightly. She realized that this envelope held all the secrets that she was so curious about, the past of Jean Valjean. 

“You were such an amazing daughter, Cosette. And you, Marius—you have a kind heart. I trust you with my daughter,” Valjean chuckled, averting his gaze to Marius for a moment. 

“Thank you, sir, thank you so much,” Marius’ voice cracked, he felt so honored to be with Cosette and be praised for it. Since he always wasn’t trusted by Javert, he felt a bit fearful about how he was going to do with Cosette. But Javert didn’t mean to come off as rude, he was just very protective of Cosette, and came off a bit rude about it. 

“And you, Cosette,” Valjean let out a weak laugh and reached forward with his free hand only to bop her on the nose with his pointer finger, a sob shaking Cosette’s shoulders as he did so. She was losing him, the last parental figure in her life. First, she lost her mother. Then, she lost her father to suicide. She never knew her real biological father. And now, she was losing her Papa. The man that brought her back to good health and taught her to trust and live again, taught her how to go on with life and spoke to her the horrors and positives of life; getting her though every hardship she had to face in his and Javert’s keeping. “You are an amazing daughter. You mean the world to me. I love you, Cosette. Don’t—Don’t forget that.” He squeezed her hand, tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to leave his daughter behind. She had Marius, now. Marius was hers to keep. 

And with that, his breathing stopped short, the last thing he saw in his vision was Cosette shaking him, pleading for him to stay awake, to live. He saw Marius pull her in close and sob into his shoulder. Then everything blacked out, his heart ceased beating and his body went limp in the wheelchair, though he didn’t fall forward. He sat there like he was in a deep sleep, and he looked peaceful. His eyes had closed and his lips lost their smile as he faded out. Cosette refused to let go of his hand, holding it tightly. Marius still hugged her close, allowing her to sob into his shoulder. Sobs wracked her whole body. She was trembling, shaking from the shock of it all and the feeling of losing her Papa. She clutched the letter tightly in one hand, she couldn’t bear to look at it right now. The only thing she had on her mind right now was her Papa, Valjean, and how he was gone. She didn’t have him or Javert anymore. She was alone, but now she had Marius. Marius knew that Cosette was going to be upset for months after this, that it would take a long time to get over the shock of it all. She still wasn’t over her father’s suicide. It’s only been a few months, but the image of his soaked body on the stretcher at the crime scene still haunts her thoughts and nightmares, and she still dreams about Valjean driving up to the taped off scene near the bridge and seeing Javert’s dead body for the first time. 

Even though she had Marius now, she felt so alone. She felt weak, broken; fragile. The sadness overwhelmed her, and that’s when she realized that the rest of the guests at the wedding party were standing near the entrance of the church, having walked over a few moments before and saw the depressing scene in front of them. A few of them began to weep themselves, and a few well known friends- Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Grantaire, and Eponine stepped forward to bring Cosette away from her Papa’s body. She pleaded through heavy sobs not to bring her away, but Marius whispered soothing words to her to try and calm her down. It took them a good five minutes to finally have her let go of Valjean’s hand and walk her outside and back into the party room, sitting her down at a table with a glass of water in front of her. She still wept at the table, burying her head in her hands, her eyes red and puffy and her makeup smeared over her eyes and cheeks. Valjean was gone, and she lost hope once again.


End file.
